And the World Fell Down
by Baine
Summary: After a practice session, Sakurano Tazusa has a chance encounter with a young man named Peet Pumps, who encourages her to believe in herself and shoot for the stars, then has the infamous 'accident' ...which turns out to be nothing but a dream?
1. Chapter 1

And the World Fell Down  
By Baine  
Email: ladybaine at gmail dot com  
Finished: August 7th, 2007

Posted: October 7th, 2007

_This chapter occurs before/during the __first episode__ of the anime series._

I reallllllllllly wanted to get this out to y'all back in August, alas, my two beta-readers/editors haven't watched _Ginban Kaleidoscope_ yet. They keep promising to, but they're very busy. I finally decided not to wait anymore. I hope you enjoy this story! I got really inspired to re-watch the series and write more after all of the wonderful reviews from _Touching Sky_. Normally, reviews aren't inspirational to get my butt moving, but your wonderful words gave me so many ideas.

This chapter is dedicated to everyone who reviewed _Touching Sky_. You all had a major impact on this story, which never would have come to pass if I hadn't re-watched the series due to you. THANK YOU!!

I hope you enjoy this!

**Also, I'm looking for your opinion:** Is it better to use "Peet" or "Pete?" I'm pretty sure that the name is actually Pete and that it was translated as Peet due to katakana, but it isn't always exact. I always feel like I'm typo-ing when I write Pete, but in the end, what spelling do you want to see the most? (Wow, and my summary is so lame. Any ideas for a better summary? I'd totally credit you. 3

**------------------------------------****  
And the World Fell Down  
By Baine  
****------------------------------------**

The world tilted on its axis in a blur of color, swirling together at a dizzying rate. A moment later, red entered the mix, then everything faded to black.

Sakurano Tazusa stared up into the rafters of the ceiling with a grimace. The ice was cold against her back, seeping through the warm layer of clothing encasing her and brushing its freezing fingers against her skin. Sprawled at an awkward angle, she grimaced as her coach, Takashima Yuuji, offered her a hand up.

His mouth was set in a frowned and his bushy eyebrows sat low on his forehead, furrowing into a unibrow as his scowl deepened. "You overextended your leg again."

"If I don't, I'll never get the height I need."

"Maybe it's not meant to be."

"I'll never medal if I can't match the other girls, Coach. Ria always does everything perfectly, Dominique's a jumping machine, Ta—"

"If you don't stop thinking about what others can do and start focusing on what _you_ can do, you'll keep failing. Perfection requires all of your attention; you can't afford to divert it toward more trivial matters."

"Yeah, okay." Tazusa brushed him off with a shake of her violet-black hair. She'd heard the lecture a thousand times before and didn't much care to hear it again.

Heading off the ice, she slipped on her guards and made her way to the locker room, only to find her entrance barred by the ashen-haired girl propped against the door.

"You know, Tazusa, it's not the _ice's _ass you're supposed to be kissing up to if you want to medal tomorrow." The lanky girl stood with her hands on her hips, a malicious smirk on her face as she began to chortle.

Tazusa recognized her as the American singer Dominique Miller. While she wasn't sure exactly what her rival had just said because she'd never paid attention during English class, she was still able to recognize an insult when she heard one. Then again, the older girl never had anything nice to say to anyone. She was the archetypal American, rude, obnoxious, and daring enough to wear skimpy outfits on the ice that Tazusa would never even dream of wearing. For last night's short program, Dominique had worn a style similar to the Gothic Lolita fashion currently popular back home, only most of the fabric consisted of black fishnet save for the black satin choker at her throat adorned with a small red bow, which perfectly matched the garter on her thigh. Her hands had been encased by gloves made popular by some American singer named Maikeru Jyakuson or something, and she had been wearing skates professionally designed to look like, in Tazusa's opinion, hooker boots.

Deciding it was better to ignore the girl than to throw mangled Engrish back at her, Tazusa quietly ducked past her and made her way to her locker and began to change. This worked out in her favor as the action inadvertently made Dominique angry enough to storm out after spewing a ton of English in which the word 'bitch' was used repeatedly. That was one word Tazusa _did_ know.

Smirking to herself, she shoved her practice suit into her duffle bag and zipped it up, hearing muffled laughter behind her as she stood and walked out of the locker room. She had a feeling they were gossiping about the clothes she'd chosen to wear, but she really didn't care. Unlike everyone else, she wasn't planning to leave the rink anytime soon. She had, however, wanted to change into something less conspicuous and more comfortable. Who would ever think she was a famous international skater when she was decked out in a grubby sweatsuit?

Making her way to the food court, Tazusa stared aimlessly at the menu above her. The English swirled before her eyes, running together in ways that seemed impossible to pronounce. Now she remembered why she'd never studied in school.

Her attention turned toward the pictures scattered across the menu and she wrinkled her nose. Hamburgers, hot dogs, _popcorn_? How could they serve so much junk food at a rink? It wasn't healthy. She finally decided to settle on the salad; how could they screw that up?

Stepping up to the counter, she pulled upon the little English she remembered, stating, "I want..." _Shit, what was it called again?_ She glanced up at the menu once more. " I want gar-garu-garuden sarudo and...and water, please."

"A garden salad? Sure." The girl at the counter cracked her gum, giving Tazusa a curious look. "Do you want to add chicken for an extra loonie?"

"...What?"

"_Chicken_. Do you want _chicken_?"

"Ah, chi-ken! Oh, yes, thank you." She knew what chicken was. Thank goodness for katakana!

"What kind of dressing do you want?"

"...What?"

The girl sighed, annoyance creeping across her face. "_Dressing_. You know, Caesar, Italian, Ranch...?"

"Ano, _what_?" Tazusa frowned. _Dressing, dressing..._the word didn't ring any bells. She turned with a start as a firm hand came down against her shoulder. She peered up at the tall boy towering over her, his shaggy blond hair falling into slate-blue eyes alight with mirth.

"Do you need some help?" he asked, speaking to her in perfect Japanese. Seeing her pole-axed look, he continued, "Can you understand me? I heard you say _ano_ and listened to your accent and just assumed—"

"Yes, I understand you. Sorry, you took me by surprise. You speak my language very well."

"Ah, well, my parents used to work in Japan, so we lived there for a few years and I became pretty fluent in the language."

"I see." Tazusa peered at him curiously, no longer quite as wary as she'd be a scant minute earlier.

The boy began to speak to the cashier in rapid-fire English before turning back to Tazusa. "You want a bottle of water and a garden salad with chicken, right?"

"Yes, that's right."

"What kind of dressing do you want?"

"Ah, _dressing_! None, thank you. It's bad for your health."

He relayed the message to the cashier, then gave Tazusa a once-over. "Do you speak French?"

"No, why?"

"Well, if you don't speak French or English, you're definitely not Canadian. Did you come here from Japan to participate in the Second Stage, or are you only here for moral support?"

Tazusa pursed her lips together. "What makes you think I'm not merely a spectator?"

"Why would you come from so far away merely to watch, especially with the Olympics right around the corner? It makes more sense to save up your money for Italy."

"Unless you're rich and can blow it all on travel and tickets."

"Are you?"

Tazusa opened her mouth, then shut it again. She made good money from being an idol skater and doing endorsements back in Japan, but she didn't really have the time or inclination to do anything with it. Finally, she muttered, "I'm a participant from Japan."

She turned and attempted to smile as the cashier handed her a tray with her meal. "_Sankyuu_," she said, turning to look for a table. She'd never been able to say that word properly since _'th'_ wasn't a sound she could easily pronounce, but luckily, the cashier seemed to understand her, calling out a cheerful "You're welcome!" as Tazusa walked away.

"Do you want some company? I'm on break at the moment."

"Are you skating this week, too?"

"Nah, I'm just helping out at the snack bar. My friend works here and they're inundated with business at the moment."

"So you live here."

"Yep, I'm Canadian through and through."

Tazusa looked him over once more. He seemed friendly enough; she didn't think he'd try anything in a place as crowded as the rink. He wasn't ugly, either. Her eyes roved over his wholesome features, his skin tan and unblemished. He was the epitome of her country's vision of a foreigner with his golden hair and eyes the color of the sky. He reminded her of a dashing prince from a Western fairytale, and she found herself unable to tear her eyes away from him.

Meeting his inquisitive gaze, she realized she'd been staring and felt heat rise to her cheeks. What had they been talking about again? Oh, yes, eating together. Struggling to maintain eye contact, she managed to utter, "I don't normally sit with people I don't know. You could be a stalker or working for one of my rivals or something."

He flashed her a lopsided grin, causing her breath to catch in her throat. "My name's Peter Pumps, but you can call me Peet. Want to see my rink pass for proof?"

She returned his smile with a timid one of her own. "No, that's okay. I'll be daring and take a chance on you."

"You don't normally rely on chance?"

"Not in this profession. My coach yells at me if I try something new or crazy." A dark expression crossed her face.

"Carpe diem."

"What?"

"It's Latin. It means 'seize the day.' You know, 'take a chance.' Just because something hasn't been done before doesn't mean you shouldn't try to do it. I would say that's especially rue in your profession. I mean, maybe you'll invent something new or develop a signature move that will have girls across the world attempting to be the next—uh, what did you say your name was again?"

"I didn't." At his expectant look, she let out a puff of air and slid into a nearby booth that had recently been vacated, inclining her head in invitation. As he sat across from her, she forced herself to hold her head high as she stated, "My name's Sakurano Tazusa."

When recognition didn't dawn in his eyes, she let out the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. He didn't know her. Perhaps she could make a fresh start. Here was someone who could finally getting to know her before slamming down the heavy gavel of judgment. She speared her salad with renewed vigor.

"What do you normally do when you're not helping out a friend?" she asked, suddenly curious about the boy sitting across from her."

"I'm a pilot."

"A pilot?" Her eyes widened. She'd thought he was her age, but apparently he was older than she'd thought.

Peet laughed at her baffled expression. "Well, I'll _be_ a pilot someday. I'm still in training now."

"So you don't have a license?"

"I do, but I'm not chartering people around on flights or anything like that. I'm practicing to be a stunt pilot." He grinned across at her. "You dance on the ice and I dance in the air."

"Wow, I never knew—I mean, I never thought—That is..."

He grinned again. It's a pretty innovative dream, isn't it?"

"But a good one." Tazusa offered him a tentative smile. "So, I guess you know what you're talking about in regards to all this chance stuff then, huh?"

He pursed his lips thoughtfully and stared over Tazusa's head at something only he could see. "Mm, I guess you could say that, yeah. Then again, what enjoyment can you get out of life if you _don't _let loose every now and again?"

"Well, I wouldn't be sitting here talking to you."

"Is that good or bad?"

A surprised laugh pushed its way past Tazusa's lips. "Uh, maybe a little of both?"

She clanked her fork against the side of her plate, her eyes widening as she realized she was the only one eating. "Gosh, Peet, why didn't you tell me I was being rude and all? You're probably on your dinner break, too, aren't you?" she bit her lip in chagrin. "I mean..." She scanned the half-empty plate before her. "Um, I have some tomatoes left you can have, or—"

"No, it's okay. I ate earlier. Besides, I never eat tomatoes. I hate them more than anything else."

"Really? How come? I love them." She pushed at a small tomato with the edge of her fork. "Does it bother you that I'm eating them in front of you? I can—"

"No, it's fine, really." He placed a hand over her own in order to get her attention. His ploy succeeded better than he could have imagined, for Tazusa instantly flushed as her hand was encased by his heat.

How could he remain so warm when surrounded by so much ice? The feeling spread until she couldn't remember ever having been cold at all. She blinked drowsily as she allowed his lilting voice to lull her into a peaceful state of mind she hadn't been acquainted with in months, maybe even years."

"...but, yeah, my hatred really annoys my mom. She hates eating pizza with me because if it's heavy on the sauce, I'll scrape it away. My plate will be lined at the rim with clumps of sauce. It really revolts her."

"Really?" Tazusa laughed, amused.

"Yeah. I don't like the smell, either. I hate eating at Italian restaurants because the smell of sauce can be so overpowering. This one time, I was at work—I used to work at a drugstore and we always had to stock the merchandise. Anyway, this one time, I was wheeling totes out of the back stockroom and all of a sudden, it smelled like something had died. I told my manager and he just laughed at me, but when I opened this one tote, it was full of broken V8 bottles swimming around in a pool of juice. The smell was so bad that my manager had to clean the tote because I thought I'd puke if I stood there any longer."

"Wow, that's crazy."

"If I could change it, I—well, I wouldn't, really, because tomatoes are so repulsive, but maybe I'd make it so I could at least tolerate the smell."

"You wouldn't like natto, then. That has a really bad smell!"

"Oh, but it tastes so good!"

She stared at him, shocked. "You like natto?"

"Hey, it's not just the Japanese who can stomach the stuff."

Tazusa smothered another smile. How could he make her lose her infamous 'poker face' so many times tonight? It was uncanny.

"Are you going home—or, rather, to a hotel or wherever you're staying—after this?"

"No, I'm going to wait for the free-skate crowd to thin out a bit, then practice a jump I've been having trouble with."

"What kind of trouble?"

"Ah, well, I don't spin as fast as some of the other girls, so I'm tring to add another rotation, but I keep crashing because I'm jumping too high and overextending my leg at the take-off."

"It sounds like you find a way to take chances every now and again after all."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean it's easy."

"The best things in life never are, are they?" Peet glanced at the silver watch adorning his wrist and frowned. "I should probably be getting back to work now."

"Will you be here again tomorrow?" The question slipped past her lips before she had the chance to consider it.

"Well, I'm flying in the morning, but I should be back before the Woman's Short Program starts in the afternoon. I'll make sure to root for you."

"Thanks, Peet. Your support will mean a lot to me."

Tazusa paced nervously, listening to the resounding applause as the night's favored skater to win, a Russian named Ria Garnet Juitiev, finished her routine and headed off to the Kiss and Cry Area.

Breathing nervously, she fumbled with the zipper of her windbreaker and shrugged if off, handing it to Coach Takashima along with her skate guards.

"Don't do anything stupid out there, Tazusa," he warned as he tucked her belongings beneath his arm.

"Who, me?" She shot him a saucy look and stepped onto the ice, unconsciously scanning the audience for a flash of gold as she struck her opening pose.

The opening notes of Strauss' "Blue Danube" filtered through the auditorium and soon thereafter, Tazusa found herself caught up in the joy of skating. She grew bolder as the audience cheered when she landed her Triple-Lutz/Triple-Toe Combo, sending a spray of ice up in the process. Fueled by the surplus of energy that came from skating a clean routine, Peet's voice suddenly sprang to mind.

_Carpe diem. Seize the day. Take a chance._

Her big finale was coming up and, after an unsuccessful practice the night before, she'd decided to play it safe today. If she skated clean, she could snag the bronze without throwing in anything complicated.

_Just because something hasn't been done before doesn't mean you shouldn't try to do it._

Why settle for bronze when she had a chance to claim gold? Maybe she'd met Peet for a reason. This was it. Her moment to shine had arrived. She would no longer walk in the shadows of more established skaters such as Shitou Kyoko. No, she, Sakurano Tazusa, was about to give birth to a new legend.

She circled the rink, faster, faster—was that a flash of golden hair in the first row? And she was suddenly up and airborne, spinning around and around.

For a moment, Tazusa was able to spread her wings and fly. Unfortunately, she wasn't a bird, and by slowing down when she thought she saw Peet, she lost the momentum needed to maintain a full three revolutions in the air.

Like a bird shot down she fell, violet hair spilling onto the ice as she lay spread-eagle, her purple and white skating dress pooled around her like broken wings.

-----------------------------------------------------------

I _think_ this will have another chapter. I have an idea, which is why I started to begin with, but this also works really well as a one-shot. I'm going to mark this as complete for in case I can't flesh out my idea, but there may be another chapter to come, so keep an eye out! I like how it coincided with the first episode and even went earlier, though. What about you? Would you like to see more? For the moment, I'm going to mark this story as complete. Depending on if y'all want to see more or not will help me decide if I should continue it, so please review!

Wow, this was written just past the one-year anniversary of when I wrote my first _Ginban_ fic. I'm so glad there's finally a section open on FFNet and that it's continuing to grow! I have a few more ideas up my sleeve, so hopefully I can write them all!

**STORY NOTES:**

**NOTE 1:** Maikeru Jyakuson Michael Jackson. That's the way the Japanese people say his name. I have katakana in a couple of other spots as well to show the difference between Tazusa's language and the foreign English she's suddenly forced to encounter. Let me know if you can't figure something out. Sometimes, this katakana form of English is called "Engrish." 'Sankyuu' is another example of this. _Th_ is REALLY hard to pronounce, so it isn't uncommon to hear this version of the word!

**NOTE 2:** I looked up slang for the Canadian Dollar used in speech and "loonie" was one of the terms. If this isn't what's used, can you let me know so I can correct it? I don't know much about Canadian currency!

**NOTE 3:** Peet, I feel your hatred of tomatoes[In fact, the above stories about the V8 and my mom hating the way I always scrape pizza sauce onto my plate are both true stories. I thought that they provided good characterization, too, and if I do continue this piece, the scene will be important, so yeah.

**NOTE 4:** Natto is a Japanese food. It's basically fermented beans and it smells really bad. It's a common belief in Japan that Japanese people are the only ones who can enjoy natto, fueled in part by the fact that many foreigners don't want to try it [after hearing so many 'bad' stories about it!

Like it? Hate it? I'm the one to talk to! Hit the little review button or Email ladybaine at gmail dot com today!

**«·´·.(·.¸(·.¸ ¸.·´)¸.·).·´·»  
«·´¨·.¸¸. Baine.¸¸.·¨·»  
«·´·.(¸.·´(¸.· ·.¸)·.¸).·´·»**


	2. Chapter 2

And the World Fell Down

Chapter 2/?  
By Baine  
Email: ladybaine at gmail dot com  
Finished: February 6th, 2008

Posted: February 29th, 2008

Hey guys! Long time no see! Sorry about that. I started writing this chapter, hated it, and put it away. I started over from scratch earlier this month. I'm still not sure that I'm completely satisfied with it, but it's not horrible, either. I look forward to your opinion on the matter. Also, I have exciting news at the end regarding the _Ginban_ novels, so stay tuned! You may have already read about it in the notes from my other fic, "Winter's Solstice." I hope you'll read that, too, because it's one of my favorite pieces of writing!

Also, thank you to art248, Watashi Sayonara Kissu, and jdcocoagirl for your reviews. I'm sorry if you thought the last chapter was a one-shot. Hopefully, this chapter will make you happier! (Although, for anyone reading this, despite the pleas, I regret to inform you that "Touching Sky" is still—and will always be—a one-shot. Anything else and I'll ruin what I wanted to do. The rest is up to you. Sorry!!)

**------------------------------------****  
And the World Fell Down  
Chapter 2/?  
****------------------------------------**

A blinding whiteness surrounded Tazusa as she blearily opened her eyes. The surface beneath her was wet and cold, causing her to shiver. Once her eyes had adjusted to her surroundings, she realized she was sprawled across a frozen lake in the middle of nowhere. At least, none of her surroundings were familiar. Then again, she was surrounded by mounds of snow. Aside from the lake, there was little else.

Had she fallen asleep? She raised her eyes to scan the horizons, but there were no mountains in sight. Hadn't she seen them earlier when she'd come out with Pete? Her eyebrows furrowed at the thought. Pete...he had left, hadn't he? Had his departure from her body caused her to black-out? She shivered and glanced down at her torso, surprised to find herself wearing a pure white skating dress rather than the outdoor gear she had pulled on before leaving the arena. Not only that, but the outfit was finer then anything she owned. It sparkled with flecks of glitter and when she brought a hand to the filmy skirt, she noticed that the delicate stitching formed a myriad of snowflakes, each one different from the last. Her feet were encased in a pair of skates that seemed to have been spun from gossamer, for save from their iridescent shimmer, they were a clear color she'd never seen before. She almost felt like Cinderella. She almost felt her back to see if she had sprouted wings, but froze halfway. What if this wasn't a fairy wonderland at all? What if she found wings, but not the kind she was expecting? What if she was—was—

She pinched her arm, and her suspicions grew tenfold as she found herself feeling no pain. _But I would know if I had died, wouldn't I?_ she reasoned mentally. If everyone who got possessed by a spirit died when the 100 days were up, they would eliminate such a practice, right? She was probably just hallucinating; who knew how long she'd been lying unconscious on the ice? After all, a dress woven together with fairy dust and snowflakes? Surely she was merely covered in snow. And clear skates? They didn't exist in nature unless made from glass or plastic, neither of which were practical when it came to support.

Shaking her head to clear it of its cobwebs, she decided to head back to the arena before she slipped too far from reality. Pushing against the ice with her hands, she slowly brought herself to her feet. Her legs wobbled as though she really were wearing skates. Then again, she was on the ice so often that it was a familiar feeling to her, so she shrugged it off, attributing the gliding motion of her steps to her slipping hold on reality.

It was when she began treading across the ice's sensitive core that the rumbling started, first as a soft crackling, then growing to a fierce growl as the ice around Tazusa's feet began to collapse. Her hands reached out and clutched at empty air. No one was there to save her. Scrambling frantically, she attempted to get away, but her skatepick caught and sent her tumbling down into the churning water that had become a deadly foe.

Her fingers clawed for something to hold onto as she attempted to tread water, but the inky blackness was greedy, wanting to claim her as its own. A burning sensation spread through her being and pain swept through her. Why couldn't death be swift and painless? Perhaps if she gave in, it would all be over faster?

Letting her hand fall, she began her downward descent. Visions of her loved ones rose to her mind:

_Coach Takashima as he leapt to his feet after she finished a successful performance, wrapping her in a bear hug and swinging her through the air._

_Her younger sister Yoko as they lay sprawled across her bed, whispering girlish secrets not meant for an adult's ears._

_Her parents, waving tearfully as they said farewell and wished her well, brought together through their love of her despite their dissatisfaction with one another._

_Pete, his golden hair shimmering like a halo as he said his final goodbye._

_...Pete, who was goodness and light._

_If nothing else, she could be with him now. There was nothing she'd like more..._

His smile sparkled as he reached out a hand and beckoned to her. Upon placing her hand upon his own, Tazusa was consumed by a rush of love from those she'd leave behind. Suddenly, she knew she couldn't—wouldn't—leave them. As though anticipating her decision, Pete's grip on her tightened as he pulled her from the inky blackness. Pain consumed her once more, but this time, she fought back, and when she broke the surface, her lungs screaming for air, she was once more surrounded by a blinding light.

Blinking to clear her eyes from the black and white dots skating before her, a wave of nausea rose to her throat and she gagged, feeling as though her body were being pulled apart at the seams.

"Tazusa! Are you okay? What's wr—no, no, don't do that. Just stay still and you'll be fine."

As the faint words penetrated, Tazusa blinked and stilled her body before she started thrashing around. She blinked again and the dots swimming before her pebbled together, forming Coach Takashima's worried visage.

"C—Coach?" she croaked, the bile slipping back toward her stomach and leaving her with a colossal migraine. Licking her lips in an attempt to bring moisture to them, she smiled gratefully as Coach Takashima brought a cup of water to her mouth. In between sips, she managed to utter, "W—Where...?"

"You're in the hospital, Tazusa." Seeing the alarmed look that sprang to her eyes, he quickly added, "It isn't anything too major, though. You fell during your last jump and hit your head. You've got a bit of a concussion, but now that you've woken up, you'll be just fine."

She stared at him, agape with confusion, a feeling that was only heightened as a nurse entered the room and began speaking in rapid-fire English.

_...English?_

She wasn't—she couldn't be—could she?

"We're not in Japan, are we?" she asked, her voice weak and faint.

Her coach frowned down at her, slightly alarmed at the question. Gently, he replied, "No, Tazusa, we're—wait. You do know that's your name, right? Tazusa, that is."

At her slight nod, he sighed in relief. If she had amnesia, things would have been much worse. He had a feeling she was more disoriented than anything else. She had, after all, taken a pretty nasty tumble. Trying to soothe the frantic look in her eyes, he reached out and squeezed her hand. "We're in Canada for the Nationals, remember?"

Tazusa's eyes widened. "We're not in Torino?"

Coach Takashima threw back his head and laughed. "Not yet. You have to work really hard if you want to make it onto the Olympic team, especially after this last competition. That fall cost you a medal and you wound up in fourth place. You overextended your leg—_again_. What were you thinking, anyway? _Four_ rotations? Tazusa..."

His voice faded away as Tazusa lost herself in thought. Everything had been a dream. She frowned at the notion. That meant Pete wasn't real. She'd completely invented him. Wait, no, that wasn't right. Pete _was_ real. She'd met him at the food court. He'd told her that he hated tomatoes and that he was a pilot. He'd been going to fly before the long program commenced and—

"Coach?" Tazusa interrupted, breath speeding up as her saliva caught in her throat. "Did, uh—were there any accidents while I was unconscious?"

Cut off mid-lecture, Coach Takashima blinked at his charge, caught off-guard by the sudden change of topic. "Accident? You mean, aside from you? I don't know. I haven't been watching the news. I've been too worried about you. Why?"

Licking her lips nervously, Tazusa flushed. "Just, you know...I thought maybe a plane crashed or something."

"Ah, I see." He shot her a reassuring smile. "Dreading the long trip back already, huh? Don't worry, we'll be fine. For a skater, you sure don't like to fly, do you?"

"That isn't—I mean—"

"To put your mind at ease, we're postponing the trip back. The hospital wants to keep you under observation for another day or two before they release you."

"Why? You said there wasn't anything wrong with me."

"Just a concussion, mostly, but they want to run a few more tests to make sure. You're a high-profile athlete, after all."

He squeezed her hand again and stood. "I'd better be getting back now so I can hold a press conference and stuff. Get some rest, okay?" He stood and said farewell, then exited the room, leaving Tazusa to her wayward thoughts.

Why had she dreamed about someone she'd had one brief conversation with? What was the meaning of it? She wished she had a dream analysis book handy. She frowned as she took in her surroundings. There wasn't even a TV present. What was up with that? She must have looked flummoxed, for a nurse entering the room saw her expression and managed to figure out what was wrong.

While it was true that Tazusa wasn't very good at English, it _was_ a required subject in Japan, and she'd been studying it since her first year of junior high school, if you didn't count the monthly "English Days" when the foreign teacher would come to their homeroom. **-1**Hearing the nurse raise her voice and flail her arms about as she shouted, "TV! You watch?" seemed slightly offensive.

Raising her head haughtily, Tazusa pulled forth her meager vocabulary and replied, "Yes, thank you. I'd like that very much."

The older woman gaped a moment before smiling and speaking so fast, Tazusa couldn't understand a thing. The woman was gone before she could ask for further clarification.

_Well, that was rude_, Tazusa thought, leaning back against her pillow. She retracted her words a few minutes later when the nurse returned with a wheelchair.

"I can walk," she stated, frowning at the contraption in question.

The woman just tutted and began spouting off more gibberish, helping Tazusa from the bed and into the chair before wheeling her out of the room and down the hallway.

_Great_, Tazusa thought with a sulk. _Try to speak their language and they think I'm fluent. Don't, and they treat me like I'm deaf and dumb. I can't win, can I?_

The sour expression fell from her face as she was pushed into the common room, suddenly finding herself face to face with the golden-haired boy from her dream.

----------------------------------------

**CULTURAL NOTE #1:** In Japan, many foreigners who live in the country teach English. You can be hired through the school, or through a program such as AEON or JET. The job descriptions vary from school to school, but one thing that everyone has in common is teaching English. I have been living in Japan for about a year and a half now through the JET Programme. I teach at one junior high school three days a week, and two elementary schools twice a week. I see the oldest kids much more frequently than I do the youngest ones. For example, I see the sixth-graders 20 times in an academic year, and I only see the first-graders five or six times. As a foreigner in Japan, you'll hear the word 'foreigner' (gaijin) used a lot. At my school, we don't call our classes "English Day," but again, all schools are different, and since this is my story, I have artistic license, too. .

- - - - -

Sorry for any mistakes. I don't have an editor for my _Ginban _fics yet, though I'm trying to get her into the series…

- - - - -

And now, the news that you've all been waiting for! I know some of you are dying to read the _Ginban_ novels and find out what happens as much as I am. As some of you know, I'm currently living in Japan (via JET). In December, I went to a nearby bookstore and treated myself to a special Christmas present. Because I'm sad that no one has translated any of the _Ginban Kaleidoscope_ novels and that the tale goes beyond the Pete arc, I decided to buy all nine of the books! I also bought both volumes of the manga, even though they only cover the anime arc. Now, my Japanese isn't very good (I'm somewhere between the 4th and 3rd Level on the national exam, with 4 being the worst and 1 being the best), but I'm going to try to translate the stories for you alongside my trusty denshi jisho (Best kind of dictionary EVER if you want to truly study Japanese). It will be hard, grueling work, especially because the nine volumes are actually (light) novels rather than manga [Which means, 1) No pictures, and 2) Not all of the kanji has furigana, but I'm going to try my best!

If any of you are good at Japanese—or know someone who is—and want to help, please get in touch with me by commenting here or via my profile. I'd really appreciate the help!

Also, would you want to see the translations here on FFNET if it's allowed, or would you rather download them as a .pdf or something? Are you even interested in reading the rest of Tazusa's story? Please tell me so I know if I should put in the effort or not!!

Like it? Hate it? I'm the one to talk to! Hit the little review button or e-mail ladybaine at gmail dot com today! Please send this story—and me—a little love if you're enjoying it. Onegaishimasu!

**«·´·.(·.¸(·.¸ ¸.·´)¸.·).·´·»  
«·´¨·.¸¸. Baine.¸¸.·¨·»  
«·´·.(¸.·´(¸.· ·.¸)·.¸).·´·»**


End file.
